More
by HomeschoolGirl
Summary: Rory's in her junior year at Chilton: getting good grades, making tentative friends with Paris, and falling in love. Lorelai, meanwhile, is managing the inn: reigning in Michele, keeping Sooki calm, and spending more and more time with Luke. Their lives parallel one another's, their stories collide-and they *still* must make Friday Night Dinner. AU.


Hello!

It's me. I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to-

Okay, I give up. HI. It's been awhile. My new obsession is Gilmore Girls. If you haven't seen it and have accidentally stumbled upon this story, GO SEE IT. All seven seasons are on Netflix! If you HAVE seen it, I commend you. And thanks for visiting this story!

Let me just say. Dialogue: hard. I'm trying to be witty by channeling Lorelai, but it's hard. Now I know how they must've felt in season seven. *shudders* Anyway, I can't say _where_ this is going for sure, only that it follows Rory from-let's say-her junior year on, but in a different fashion. It's an AU.

Thanks!

-Homey

One \- Rory

The first, insistent thought in Rory Gilmore's head when she woke that morning was _coffee_. She sat up and let her head swim down to her feet, breathing in sharp one, two, three times. She waited for the bitter smell to tickle her nose, but it didn't, and she let out an audible groan when she remembered why: Lorelai, beloved mother only second to coffee maker extraordinaire, was away at an overnight management conference fifty miles away.

Rory promptly flopped down and buried her face her pillow. Then she hoisted herself out of bed and went to go do the tedious job of filling up the carafe and changing the filter and adding more grounds. Her mother fondly referred to it as her morning 'devotion time'. Rory had scoffed at that until she woke up extra early one morning and heard her Mom, between the hiss of the coffee as it spit into the pot, intoning _I love thee, o Coffeepot. I worship thee and drink thee in_ - _literally_ -and here, she broke off to laugh at her own joke, which Rory found equally pathetic and endearing. From then on, she'd never doubted Lorelai's reverence to the great and powerful machine, and had bestowed upon her the official title of Coffee Queen.

Rory made half their usual amount this morning, feeling a little pang that her mother wasn't there to share it with her. She had just flipped the _ON_ switch when the phone rang.

"Hello?" She'd jogged into the living room and answered a little breathless.

"Hi. This is Planet Fitness. We're offering a discounted membership to those who are plagued by the inability to run to answer the phone and still have the lungspan to say a two-syllable greeting. My name is Sharon and I—"

"Mom," Rory said flatly, "I'm hanging up now."

"Wait! Don't! If you take this deal now, we'll throw in two-count 'em- _two_ discounted memberships! One for you, and one for your foxxy mother who, coincidentally, also has trouble walking and talking."

"She might benefit more from a nutritionist. She eats like a cow."

"Since cows eat mostly green stuff, I say good for her!"

"Okay, thanks, but I've really got to go—"

"Rory." Lorelai dropped the voice and laughed. "Goodmorning, sunshine."

"You too, _Sharon_."

"I'm thinking about actually changing my name."

"Uh-huh."

"Because then we wouldn't have the same name, you know, I was like, all delirious from the demerol and everything. So I'd be Sharon and you'd be Lorelai or-you know what-I could be Sharon and _you_ could be Sharon junior and we could call you Sherry instead of Rory. How adorable would that be?"

"On a scale from spiders to fluffy golden puppies? Probably a kitten."

"I'll have somebody draw up the papers tomorrow!" Her breath hissed out in a guffaw. "God, I've always wanted to say that. It sounds so _powerful_ , you know?"

"Right. There's only _one_ foreseeable problem."

"What? I paid a fortune teller to _promise_ me there wouldn't be any foreseeable problems. I went to a carnival and everything, and I inserted change into this fortune teller machine that looked _very_ suspicious, and it spit out this slip of paper, right? And so the next morning I wake up, and I'm ten years older. So I worked for a toy company, and I felt up a girl with terrible hair, but I didn't know any better-"

"Mom, I appreciate this bit, but that last part brought to mind all sorts of disturbing images…"

"Right, right. Sorry." She paused. "Huh. A group of five people just walked by and gave me weird looks. Do you think they heard that?"

"Are you naked?"

"Let me check. Pants, socks, shirt...no, not naked."

"Have you become deformed in the last fifteen hours?"

"When I did my makeup, I looked _tired_ er than usual-wait, is tireder a word?"

"I think it actually is."

"It doesn't _sound_ like a legitimate word. Plus, it's hard to say. Tireder. _Tireder_. Try that."

"No. It's too early for tireder...blah." Rory shifted her shoulder in order to hold the phone to her ear as she went back in the kitchen. The coffee was already finished brewing. Letting out a sigh of relief, she reached for it and filled her cup to the brim.

"Mental note not to use that again. Where were we?"

"Um...you're not naked, you're not deformed."

"Oh yeah! No. Neither."

"Then they _probably_ heard you."

"Damn. That's embarrassing."

Rory lifted the cup to her lips. It was too hot to gulp, so she settled for a small sip. She smiled to herself cocked her hip against the countertop. "You've endured more"

"Are you drinking coffee?"

"Yes I am. Which _you_ didn't make."

"I had a meeting. Important stuff. Understandably, I forgot."

"Yeah, well, I _almost_ suffocated myself this morning when I realized I'd have to do it."

"How sad."

"Yep. Almost _pulled_ that pillow over my face and ended it all. The aroma of the room was coffee-less. It caused immediate distress. I saw my life flash before my eyes. And then I thought of the paper that was due today, and I couldn't go through with it."

"Honey, have I ever said how _proud_ of you I am?"

"Thanks, Sharon."

"Sure thing, Sherry."

Rory sat down at the table and laid the phone down, putting it on speaker, so she could cradle her coffee cup with both hands A moment later Lorelai's voice came through, slightly higher and more distorted-sounding than it had been before. "Luke knows I'm gone, so he's going to have breakfast ready for you when you go by this morning, and-hey, am I on speaker?"

"Possibly."

"Take me off."

"Why? You're not on speaker."

"Yes I am."

"Yes, you are."

"You just said I wasn't."

"Did I?"

"Most definitely. I'm having the FBI tap this call, and I can prove it to you as soon as my attractive Greek assistant-with-benefits gets me the audio."

"What's his name?"

"Matt. No wait, not Greek enough. Adonis! Adonis, the attractive secretary!"

"Well, you have him do that, and in the meantime I should go."

"Speaker. Yuck!"

Rory grinned. "Why do you hate being on speaker so much?"

"I don't know. Just the idea that anybody could be listening. Also, it _feels_ like you're giving a speech or something. I can hear the echo. It's alarming."

"O _kay_ , Mom, I think you need some more sleep."

"Actually, I have to head downstairs for a seminar. This is so boring."

"Just bear it. It'll be over soon."

Laurelai let out a heavy sigh. " _Fine_. Oh, and don't forget - - you have Friday Night Dinner with Charles and Rose Ponzi."

"Mom. First of all, that's not nice. _Second_ of all, I would never forget."

"I _know_ that, honey. I was trying to telekinetically tell you _to_ forget while fulfilling my motherly duties. Go out. Eat at Al's with Lane. Stay up too late watching crappy movies that I wouldn't approve of."

"Hey! Lane has good taste!"

"Need I remind you about the time she wanted to watch _Die Hard_?"

"That has some gems in it! Some classic lines."

"And Bruce Willis."

"Right." Rory frowned. "I forgot about him."

"I know. Now, wash that sour taste out of your mouth with a some coffee and get ready."

Rory glanced at the clock, then stood so abruptly that the chair teetered. "It's seven-ten! I'll never make it. I'll have to skip breakfast—"

"I'll call Luke and tell him to have it ready."

"Oh, Mom, _really_?"

"Yes, really! Now go, run! And I'm sorry I couldn't make dinner tonight, kid. Be strong and brave and don't waver in the face of adversity."

" _Mom_."

"Go, go! Love you! I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow, definitely!" Rory hung up the phone and threw it on the counter as she raced to her room, already pulling off her Bambi t-shirt.

* * *

Luke's was as crowded as it usually was on a Friday morning. Rory went in and found a seat at the counter, flipping open her book. She'd made excellent time, and her mother had left her the Jeep, so actually she had fifteen minutes and thirty-two seconds to spare before she needed to head to Hartford. That was plenty of time to make a start on _The Twelve Caesars_.

She was so absorbed, her hair falling in a curtain in front of her face, creating a tunnel so her eyes never strayed from the words, that she didn't hear the huge _clink_ of a cup being set down, or the gush of coffee as it was poured. In fact, she didn't hear anything at all until someone snapped right in her ear.

"Hey!" She startled, glaring up at the culprit until she saw it was Luke.

"Sorry!" He grimaced sheepishly. "I didn't think that would scare you."

"Rory's easily startled when absorbed in a book. I've observed this on many occasions."

"Kirk." Rory swiveled in her stool to give him an accusatory look. "I am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are _too_." Eyebrows drawn together, he jabbed a straw into his chocolate milk and turned away.

Rory rolled her eyes and started to flip to the next page until she remembered that Luke was waiting. "Did my mom call?"

"She did. She said french toast with extra whipped cream."

"Yes!" Rory raised a triumphant fist. "Extra extra?"

"Unfortunately." He reached for the window and promptly deposited a plate teeming with the good stuff. Rory started in on the mound. "Wow! This is like trying to reach buried treasure."

"She emphasized that it should be a whipped cream mountain. Something about Ponzi?"

Rory shook her head. "Ignore that."

"I figured." Luke went to top off other coffee cups as Rory dug in. It took awhile to reach the french toast, but when she did, it was perfect.

"Luke!" When he glanced at her, Rory gave him the thumbs up.

"How can you stand to eat that?" He came over to make another pot at the machine.

"Because I am my mother's child."

"You know what all that saturated fat does to your heart?"

"Makes a lining around it so that it's like your chest is constantly being hugged by the softest arms in the world, yes."

"You know, it makes me sick, really."

"Poor Luke. Do you need a bucket?"

"A young girl like you, whole life ahead of her-eating absolutely garbage! Well I'm not having it!"

Kirk leaned over, moving the straw to the corner of his mouth. "Are you safe?"

"Oh yeah, I'm safe. I love it when Luke gets worked up." She shoveled another bite between her lips.

"-end up with a variety of health problems! Diabetes, obesity, depression!"

"That is me!" Rory chimed in. "Diabetic, obese, depressed!"

"Not yet!" Luke slammed the ON switch. "Not yet, but it will be if I don't _do something_! I'm an enabler!"

"An enabling enabler!" Rory tacked on.

"I stand here, and I pour the coffee, and I squirt the whipped cream—"

Kirk laughed.

"-and I watch you eat like a freaking cow—"

"Cows eat grass."

Luke paused for a beat, then broke off into grumbles and stormed off to the back.

"Thank you, Luke!" Rory called, hopping off the stool. "I'm leaving the money on the counter!"

"Where are you going?" Kirk demanded, finishing the last of his chocolate milk with a slurp that sent the straw into making annoying sucking sounds.

"I'm leaving before he comes back with grapefruit or something."

"Luke doesn't serve grapefruit!"

"Well, then an apple!"

"He does serve apples."

Rory flipped her hair over her collar. "Bye, Kirk."

"Rory." He nodded formally. As she opened the door and the bells jingled, she could hear footsteps quickly approaching from the pantry. Luke.

"Hey!" Kirk called, as she stepped out of the diner. "There's still a few bites on here!"

"I'm full!" Rory returned. "I just consumed a mountain of whipped cream!"

"Well, can I have it?"

"Have what?"

"The bites!"

Rory glanced at the soggy mess, and she didn't have the heart to say no. "Sure, Kirk."

"Sweet!" He dug in voraciously right as Luke stepped around the corner, holding an orange.

Rory booked it.


End file.
